


Child's Play

by tristesses



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/F, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/pseuds/tristesses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which both Gaila and Uhura experiment with each other's cultures, and Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters are drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Child's Play

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 7/11/2009.

"But it's an old Earth game!" Gaila protests, slopping her drink all over the table in her grab for Uhura's arm. "I'm trying to, you know, get in touch with your culture! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It's _stupid_ ," Uhura says – nearly snaps, she's really fed up with Gaila and her neverending barrage of questions and experiments and what-have-yous – they've finally settled into an uneasy peace, after a few more-than-awkward clashes between cultures (mostly involving Gaila plus other naked humanoids in unusually aerobic positions on Uhura's bed, which was really the clincher) – but seriously, why can't Gaila go hang out with her other friends for a change, and leave Uhura alone?

"It's totally stupid," agrees Gaila, "but so were all those books you had me read –"

"Classics of Earth's literature!" exclaims Uhura, feeling somewhat stung. "And you liked them."

"Okay, some," she concedes, bobbing her head a little excessively in agreement, red curls flying everywhere. "But mostly they were about sadness and suffering and, you know – " She makes a fluttering gesture with her hand, as if brushing through her vocabulary to find the perfect word, " – _existentialism_. Why would anyone want to read about that?"

"The human condition?" says Uhura into her drink. The effect of three combined Cardassian Sunrises has just hit her hard (plus a shot of synthesized whiskey made in a bathroom still by some friend of Gaila's in the engineering department – "No, really!" Gaila enthused, "he's brilliant, and he's really cute too, in a gangly, balding sort of way, you should totally meet him"), and her world's gone sort of bleary and things Gaila's saying are sort of starting to make sense now. She's reminded why she doesn't drink very much, now.

Gaila sniffs and says, sounding a little stiff, "Well, I guess it's convenient that I'm not human, isn't it?"

"I didn't mean it like that – " says Uhura, straightening abruptly. Acceptance and understanding of cultural differences as well as how to handle them diplomatically is emphasized in the linguistics department – after all, most of the graduates would go on to become translators, working on starships in diplomatic settings – and she practices on Gaila, sometimes, making sure she treats her just the same as all the humans she knows. She hates it when she screws up.

"Relax!" laughs Gaila, and slings an arms around her shoulder. "I was just kidding. But you really do need to relax. I think you need to have sex. Do you have any partners in mind? I can totally help you."

"I have plenty of sex!" snaps Uhura, and shrugs free of Gaila's clasp. "And I don't need your help getting partners, thanks."

Gaila regards her for a moment, silent.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"You just can't ask people about sex like that. It's my private business, and if I want to share it, I will. I don't have a problem telling you – " except she sort of really does, " – but other people probably will. It's just taboo."

"That's ridiculous," mutters Gaila, but she seems subdued. Uhura eyes her for a moment, then sighs, a slight smile curling her lips.

"Okay, fine."

"What?"

"Truth or dare?"

"You'll play with me?" Gaila asks, and before Uhura can answer she's got a lapful of slightly drunken Orion, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her on the cheek. Uhura's pretty sure she hears a wolf whistle from the bar area, and she can feel the heat rush to her cheeks.

"Yeah, I will," she tells Gaila, attempting to wriggle out of her grasp. "But let's not climb all over each other yet, okay?"

"Dare," says Gaila decisively, and stays firmly where she is. Normally Uhura would try to move her – she's just not the touchy-feely sort of friend – but right now it doesn't seem like such a big deal. Who cares?

"Let's see, a dare…" Uhura muses, skimming her eyes over the crowded bar. Her vision snags on the drink menu and she picks it up, reads it quickly, then brandishes it in Gaila's face.

"What is this?" asks Gaila, taking it and peering at it.

"A Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster," says Uhura smugly. Gaila blinks at her, and she elaborates: "It's the most intense drink in the universe." Which might be stretching it a little – how did she _know_ it was the most intense drink in what was basically all of creation? – but Gaila wouldn't know that. "It's like – it's sort of like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon, which is wrapped around a giant gold brick."

"Have you had one, then?"

"No!" Uhura pauses for a moment, and thinks of rumors she's heard about some cadets who dared a friend to drink two in a row; she'd heard there were explosions, and Adams hadn't been the same since. More than a little…wobbly. "I know people who have, though."

"And you want me to drink one."

"Well, I'm curious how it'll affect your liver."

Gaila shrugs, and says, "Okay."

Uhura stares after her as she strides confidently to the bar, slaps the synthetic wood paneling, and says, "I'll have a, uh, Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster. That's what it's called, right?"

There's an outbreak of murmuring, and for a moment the ensuing crowd blocks Uhura's view of Gaila; stupid cadets drinking Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters are always a good show. Then Gaila worms her way out of the mass of bodies – squeezing a few people where politeness typically doesn't permit in the process – holding aloft the luminescent glass.

"I hope you've got your field notebook out," Gaila says cheerfully.

"Always do," replies Uhura, and she really can't believe Gaila's actually going to drink this.

Gaila lifts her glass in a little toast to Uhura, winks at all the onlookers, and tosses her head back and downs the whole thing. There's a moment of stunned silence while Gaila sits still, head thrown back, exposing the green expanse of her throat, and Uhura considers surreptitiously calling for a doctor. She doesn't know how it'll affect Gaila, after all, and…well, this was a really stupid idea. She saves the berating till later, and reaches out to touch Gaila's shoulder.

Gaila tilts her head down, and blinks a few times, hazily. She looks at Uhura's hand on her shoulder, and a silly smile drips its way across her face.

"That was _awesome_ ," she gurgles.

Uhura grins at her. "I'm sure it was."

"Truth or dare?"

 ****

. . .

Gaila's sloshed. She's absolutely _drunk_ , and she loves it.

One hand's got a glass of Draylaxian whiskey in it, courtesy of the nice barkeep who was so impressed with how she downed that drink, and her other arm's wrapped around the waist of a heartbreakingly gorgeous woman – Nyota, to be exact, beautiful Nyota who encapsulates everything she loves about Earth and its people, the determination and will to live and desire for individuality and even the prudishness, although she'd really like that to go away, especially in the case of Nyota. Gods, _Nyota_. Gaila thinks she might be a bit in love with her, even if she does study too much. More than a bit, really. As they half-walk, half-stumble across the quad directly in front of their dormitory, she tells her so.

"No, you're not," Nyota says, a little stubbornly if you ask Gaila.

"I am too," pouts Gaila, and turns into the curve of Nyota's body, pressing her lips against the hollow of her throat. "Don't you tell me how to feel."

Nyota sighs, and diverts the topic, saying, "Let's stop here for a while."

"What, on the grass?"

"Why not?" Nyota sits, careful not to spill her own glass of whiskey. She gestures up at the sky, the inky blackness spotted by pinpricks of starlight. "Enjoy the view."

"Someday we'll be seeing it for ourselves," says Gaila, and then pauses. "Like, not from Earth, I mean."

"I know. I can't wait."

They are silent for a moment, sprawled on the lawn. Nyota balances her glass on her belly, her civilian shirt riding up enough to expose a bare stripe of flesh. Gaila admires the contrast between Nyota's skin and the grass. Later, when she's in space and missing home, she'll close her eyes and this is what she'll see, taste, feel: Nyota's body, and the grass that brushes her flesh, sending minute trembles through her taut muscles; the scent of Earth and human sweat, real, unbound, so alive; this is the summation of why she left Orion in the first place.

Gaila strokes Nyota's thigh, drawing her fingers up the bare skin. She admires the goosebumps that erupt, and Nyota shifts very slightly, gazing at Gaila from lidded eyes.

She doesn't say stop, so Gaila doesn't; lips follow the path her fingers sketched on Nyota's skin, caught somewhere between a kiss and a simple brush, and Gaila shifts so she's lolling between Nyota's legs. When her lips encounter the fabric of Nyota's skirt, Gaila slips one hand under and up, cupping the curve of Nyota's hip, and moves her ministrations to Nyota's belly.

Nyota jerks, spilling the whiskey on her stomach and shirt, and whispers, "We can't do this here."

Gaila smiles, and murmurs back, "There's no one around." She laps at the spilled alcohol, beaded and shining on Nyota's skin, and feels her shudder. She swirls her tongue around her navel, and adds, "Do you really want me to stop?"

"No," Nyota whispers, and Gaila slinks up her body, palming her breast over her shirt, teasing the nipple through the fabric. "But if anyone sees – "

"Then I guess they'll be lucky, huh?"

She captures any protest Nyota might have made in her mouth, kissing so smooth and slow and soft that Gaila thinks she might go crazy with craving, but Nyota sets the pace and this is what she wants, gentle touches, soft strokes over hot skin hidden by fabric – oh, but her hand on the small of Gaila's back, now, pressing her closer, holding her tight, the other winding in her hair, and Gaila reacts (how could she not?), pressing down with her hips, breast to breast, shifting a thigh between Nyota's legs, and Nyota rolls her hips against her leg instinctively and that contact alone is enough to make her draw a stuttering breath, eyelids fluttering, and Gaila wonders how long it's been for her. Some humans go years without sex; poor Nyota, if that's the case.

"Still worried about people watching?" asks Gaila devilishly, and Nyota rolls her head as if looking around for eyes in the darkness. Gaila moves to the side and pulls her own shirt off, tossing it a few feet away; her lacy bra joins it a few seconds later. Nyota's propped on her elbows, eyes on Gaila.

"Come here," she says, a little hoarsely, and Gaila obliges her, letting out a little moan as Nyota cups her breasts, a little experimentally, rubbing the pad of her thumb over Gaila's nipple, then exploring with her lips, leaving damp patches flushed a deep shade of green where she sucked at the skin. She wriggles out of her tight skirt and panties, and lies recumbent on the grass. Nyota crouches between her legs, looking doubtful.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Gaila asks. "No pressure. If you say no I'll put my skirt back on."

"I want to," Nyota replies, in a low whisper. "The security bots come around here every hour, though. I don't know how much time we have."

Gaila shrugs. Why sex on the front lawn is such a big deal is beyond her."We'd better hurry, then."

Nyota's eyes darken, and Gaila stiffens – she doesn't quite have the hang of telling complex emotions like that yet – but when Nyota lowers her mouth to Gaila's lower thigh, then further down, Gaila decides she's fine.

And really, what does it matter when Nyota's mouth is on her like this, doing such delicious things? Gaila squirms and sighs, Nyota's tongue lapping at her clit, fingers holding her spread open, licking deeper inside her.

"Harder," Gaila moans, and slides her hands into Nyota's hair as she obliges.

Her first orgasm shakes her hard, and the resulting explosion of endorphins release the pheremones she's usually got under tight control. They won't affect Nyota, of course, but they serve as a stimulant to Gaila's senses, too.

She sits up quickly, barely registering the look of surprise on Nyota's face before she pushes her shoulders and tips her over, then scoots between her legs and crouches. She hikes Nyota's skirt up around her waist and rubs Nyota's sex through the synthesized cotton of her panties, eliciting a surprised moan from the other woman. Gaila licks her fingers but that isn't enough, she needs more, and if Nyota wanted to take it slow before, well, that's not the game plan now. She drops to her elbows and grabs Nyota's hips, angling her closer, and sucks at her through her panties – she forgot to take them off, somewhere, but that doesn't matter; she just pushes the scrap of material to the side and licks at Nyota, sucking her clit, laving all of her and relishing the taste of salt, the strange scent of human sweat. Above her, Nyota is whimpering, back arching, hands pressing Gaila's head down, and a few hundred feet away, the lamps that illuminate the walkways click on.

"It's security," groans Nyota. "We have to – we need to – "

It's some mindless robot with a camera, thinks Gaila, it doesn't matter, not as much as this, and she thrusts two fingers inside Nyota, pumping steadily, curling inside her, and Nyota is nearly screaming, and Gaila is loving every _nanosecond_ of this. She slips a hand between her legs and works at herself, hard and fast and merciless.

Nyota comes much sooner than she, and Gaila flings herself on her back to finish and let Nyota gather herself. Her toes dig into the earth and she arches her back and cries out. The stars are watching.

Nyota is staring at her when she's pulled herself together. Gaila flops in the grass and grins at her, sweaty and sticky and satisfied.

"Enjoy the show?" she purrs, but it breaks into a giggle at the end and she stretches. "Oh wow. That was great."

"I – " Nyota shakes her head, a slight smile tweaking her lips. They share a moment, bathed in the after-sex glow.

Then another light clicks on, this one much, much closer. Nyota jerks into motion, tossing Gaila's clothes to her and pulling on her own top and skirt.

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," Gaila says, and begins to wiggle into her underwear.

 ****

. . .

The two women sprawled on the grassy quad don't look familiar from a distance, but when he's closer Leonard can see that one of them's that girl Uhura Jim's so taken with, and the other's the Orion he's, well, _taken_. They look like they've come back from a bar – run back, by the looks of it, they're both sweaty and they look like they've been exercising. He nods as he approaches.

"Hi, doctor," says the Orion, and she winks at him. He blinks, not sure how to respond, and Uhura says cordially, "Hello, Leonard."

"Hello," he replies. They both look a little tipsy, if the lispy tilt of their voice is evidence enough. "What are you two doing out here so late?"

The Orion erupts in giggles, but Uhura says airily, "Stargazing, that's all. What about you?"

"I had to bail Jim out of prison," he says, stifling the urge to roll his eyes even when he thinks about it. "But we should all get back to the dorms, the security cam's due in ten minutes and I don't want another demerit on my record."

"Thanks for the advice," Uhura tells him, and he continues on his way. He can hear the Orion say "I told you we shouldn't have worried" and Uhura's muffled response, then the Orion, again, "We could have asked him to join!"

Leonard pauses – but the idea that Uhura would ever fall to an Orion's charms is just completely unlikely. She's too uptight.

But Leonard still feels like he's missed out on something.


End file.
